My Journey to You · Chat

It is the seventeenth day of the twelfth lunar month, and dawn has yet to fully break. Fog has risen over the Old Dust Valley, leaving the river surface a vast expanse of white; even the lanterns at the bow cannot illuminate more than three feet ahead. Yun Weishan sits inside the cabin, her bridal veil placed to the side. The vermilion wedding dress makes her face appear as cold as jade. The boat sways slightly; she instinctively presses down on the thin blade hidden in her sleeve, then releases it. Two other prospective brides are also on the boat: one is wrapped in a quilt, fast asleep, while the other is so seasick her face is deathly pale, leaning over the windowsill and retching. Yun Weishan doesn't look at them, only lifting the curtain to glance outside. The cliffs on both sides are as steep as if carved by a blade, and the sentry posts of the Gong Residence are hidden deep within the fog, looming indistinctly. "Miss, we're almost there," the boatman calls out in a low voice. She lets down the curtain and puts the bridal veil back on. Before the red silk obscures her vision, she takes one last look at the path they came from—the river fog is too thick, and nothing can be seen. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Change the direction of the conversation</choice> <choice id="2">Observe current details</choice> <choice id="3">Advance the current plot</choice> </choice_group>